Rising Star (7 page)

“It's funny how so many rock musicians wear black,” said Pop, gazing at Tara. “Or if not black, they often wear really scruffy clothes, as if they don't care
what
they look like.”

“It's because we rock musicians care about the music, unlike you
pop
singers.” Tara sneered.

“We care about the music
and
what we look like,” Pop argued. “The whole act is important.”

“Oh, come on. Let's not argue,” begged Lolly. “Can't you two agree to differ about pop and rock music? After all, it's all
music.
”

“Huh!” said Tara darkly. “Are you sure about that?”

Lolly put her hands over her ears. “No more!” she yelled. “If I hear this argument again, I'll
scream.
”

“You can be a rock chick as long as we're allowed to be pop divas,” Chloe said.

Tara looked at her and laughed. “
You're
not likely to be
either
!” she began, but Pop picked up a pillow from her bed and flung it at her. Lolly and Chloe scrambled to rescue the dress and get out of the way as Tara and Pop started bopping each other in earnest.

“Sometimes, I think Pop and Tara are more like twins than Pop and me!” said Lolly. “Look at them. They're really enjoying themselves!” She laughed.

It was true. They were giggling like mad in between bopping each other with pillows.

“But Pop is much nicer than Tara,” Chloe whispered, wincing as Pop fell off the bed, arms flailing.

“Yes, but Tara is nicer when she forgets about putting on an act,” Lolly replied. “It's a shame she doesn't have any brothers or sisters to set her straight.”

Chloe looked at Tara, who was helping Pop up. Lolly was right. She
was
nicer when she wasn't putting on an act. She even
looked
better. Her usually pale face was flushed a healthy pink, and her eyes, so often dark and unhappy-looking, were sparkling with fun.

“What
have
you been doing?” Rosie, an older girl who was the moniter on their hall, put her head around their door.

“Pillow fight,” said Pop with satisfaction. “Why?”

Rosie shook her head in disbelief. “It's just that I've never seen a famous model look such a mess before,” she said. Chloe laughed. Rosie was so right. Pop's T-shirt was all crumpled and stretched out, and her hair, instead of being sleek and shiny, was full of tangles.

“There's a message for you, Chloe,” Rosie continued. “Could you go to the recording studio please? Mr. Timms wants to see you.”

“Mr. Timms? What does he want?” asked Chloe.

“
I
don't know,” Rosie told her. “But he said to go right away. You'd better hurry and find out!”

“Chloe Tompkins, in trouble again!” said Tara. Pop gave her an extra-hard bop with her pillow and she collapsed onto the bed.

Chloe and Lolly exchanged glances. “Of
course
you're not in trouble, Chloe,” Lolly said confidently. “Are you?”

“No! I don't think so,” said Chloe. “But I'd better go and find out what he wants.”

Mr. Timms wasn't the sort of person you kept waiting, and Chloe didn't want to get on the wrong side of such an important teacher. She zipped up her jacket and hurried out of the room. What could Mr. Timms want?

Chloe raced over to the main house. Why
did
Mr. Timms want to see her? She'd coiled up some cables yesterday and put them away. Had she done it badly? Perhaps she'd put them in the wrong place and he couldn't find them!

She sped downstairs as quickly as she could, into the basement of the building. The red light outside the studio wasn't lit, so she knew it was all right to go in. Mr. Timms was making himself a drink in the tiny kitchen.

“Ah! Chloe. Just the person I ... ” His voice trailed away. He was so vague when he wasn't actually working. “Was it you who coiled this ...?”

Oh no! She must have made a mistake, though the cable he was pointing to, hanging up where she'd left it,
looked
okay. Chloe swallowed nervously.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Very good,” he said. “Very neat.” After a few moments, he added, “I like neat ...” He waved her out of the way and went through to the control room with his tea. Chloe followed, feeling a bit better. You just had to be patient with Mr. Timms.

“You want to record ...” Mr. Timms waved his hand vaguely. “... Danny?”

“Danny?”

“Yes. He wants to do a demo ... said you might want ... ”

“Hi, Chloe!” It was Danny's voice, coming out of one of the speakers, and it made Chloe jump. He must be somewhere in the studio! She looked through the large, soundproofed window that separated the control room from the larger of the two recording rooms, and her friend waved at her cheerfully. He'd been setting up the drum kit.

“Thanks for coming. I need to make a recording for Tara and I thought you might want to help. Hang on, I'll come through.” In a moment, he was in the control room. “Mr. Timms said you could give me a hand if you want,” he explained when they were together.

“Really?” Chloe's eyes shone. “You mean it?” She looked from Danny to Mr. Timms and back again.

“If you don't mess around,” Mr. Timms said. “And do as you're ... Let's get on then ... ”

Chloe couldn't believe it. This was awesome! She was going to be part of a real recording! Danny led the way back to the drum kit, and Mr. Timms showed them how to position the five drum microphones.

“We need that mike stand over there.” She picked up the black metal stand Mr. Timms was pointing at and carried it carefully to him. “Put it so the microphone on it is angled over the floor tom.” Danny pointed to the large drum next to his bass drum and Chloe set the stand down. “You'll need to make it lower,” said Mr. Timms.

“Like that?”

“Bit more. That's it. Now clip this mike onto the snare drum.”

“What's this called?” Chloe asked Danny, pointing to a funny pair of cymbals with a little gap between them. They were on a tall, silver stand and were attached to a pedal on the floor.

“That's a high hat,” Danny told her. “Look.” He pressed the pedal with his foot and the top cymbal closed down onto the bottom one with a satisfying little
tchk!
When he took his foot off the pedal, the cymbal went back up again.

“I don't know how you manage to do so many different things at the same time,” she told Danny, gazing at all the equipment. “It's like rubbing your tummy and patting your head at the same time, only more difficult!”

When all the microphones had been positioned correctly, Mr. Timms and Chloe went through to the control room, leaving Danny to get settled at his drums.

“Here are your five mikes on the screen.” He showed Chloe, pointing to the lines on a nearby monitor. “Put these around your neck; you'll need them in a bit.” He handed her some headphones. Everyone called headphones “cans” in the recording studio.

“You can speak to Danny via this mike here on the mixing desk. Get him to play the bass drum first while you set up the sound level for it.”

Chloe felt very important sitting at the mixing desk with all its dozens of knobs. She leaned over to speak into the mike.

“Give me some bass, please,” she said, like she'd heard Mr. Timms say to people.

“Okay,” Danny said. She could hear him perfectly. He thumped away with his bass pedal and one of the lines on the monitor jumped up and down. Mr. Timms showed Chloe how to set it at the correct level. When it was about right, she asked Danny to stop and play his snare drum instead. When all the recording levels had been set, Mr. Timms told her to get Danny to do a run-through. Danny twirled a drumstick at her through the glass partition and set off. She sat back to watch him. She felt like a real professional.

“Watch the levels, Chloe,” Mr. Timms warned, tapping the monitor. “Look at the cymbals. They're going to drown out the rest if you don't tweak it a bit.” Oops! Perhaps it wasn't as easy as she'd thought!

It didn't take long to record the piece Danny wanted to perform. When it was done he came into the control room and they all listened to the playback.

“What do you think?” asked Mr. Timms. Chloe tried hard to think of something that would improve the recording.

“Is the snare drum a bit quiet?” she asked.

Mr. Timms nodded. “You could increase it a bit if you like.” He showed her which knob to turn, and she adjusted it until the sound was more balanced.

“That's fine!” said Danny when they'd played it back again. “Thanks. Tara
will
be pleased.”

Mr. Timms took a tape out of a tape machine and handed it to Chloe.

“Put your name on this tape,” he told her. “This is your first recording as a sound engineer. It's important to keep a record of your work.” Chloe was speechless with delight. She held on to the tape as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“This is Tara's copy,” Mr. Timms added, handing another tape to Danny. “You can tell her she needs to bring it back after the concert to be used again. I don't approve of waste. Well, go on, then,” he said. “Well done. Off you go. I've got better things to do ... When I was at Abbey Road I didn't ...”

Danny and Chloe scooted out of his way and back into the main hall.

“Thanks for helping,” Danny said.

“No! Thank
you
!” Chloe said. “I've had a great time. You didn't really need me though, did you? Mr. Timms could have done that recording in his sleep. What made you think of me?”

Danny shrugged. “Do you mind giving the tape to Tara?” he said, not meeting Chloe's eyes and changing the subject. “It's just that she's such a pain about rehearsing. She's so bossy, always thinking she knows best. If she has the tape, she can practice without me there. Then I might just manage the performance without losing my cool!”

“Of course I will, but Danny, why... ”

He hurriedly thrust the tape at her, still avoiding her eyes. “No reason,” he said, and then relented. “Well, I thought, you know ... ” He shrugged. “You've had a hard time, and you really like the recording studio ... ” He looked at her at last, and blushed.

“You're beginning to sound like Mr. Timms,” she complained. Then she found she was blushing, too.

It was the last day of the term and the day of the concert. Lots of parents were arriving. Right after the concert, everyone would be heading home for Christmas, but no one could get excited about that until the performances were safely over. No one except Chloe, that is.

Chloe was really looking forward to seeing her parents, and her little brother, too. She couldn't wait for Pop and Lolly to meet Ben at last. She'd shown them pictures and told them so much about him. At the same time, he was too young to worry about her lack of progress with singing. He, alone of all the people she knew, wouldn't be asking how she'd done this term. With Ben, Chloe could be herself, and forget her worries, and she badly needed to be able to do that.

She had plenty of time to pack her bags while everyone else was frantically rehearsing.

“I'll strip your beds if you want,” she volunteered to Pop and Lolly, after Mrs. Pinto had asked everyone to put their bedding in piles to help the housekeeping staff. “I'll do yours as well, if you want,” she offered to Tara.

“Thanks!” said Tara, looking very surprised. “That would be great.”

Chloe was glad to have something to do. It was horrible watching everyone get ready for the concert. She couldn't stop herself from being jealous, however hard she tried, so helping out was a way of making herself feel less guilty.

She had asked her parents to come after the concert was over. It was going to be hard enough sitting in the audience watching all her friends perform, without her parents feeling sorry for her as well. The last thing she wanted was to cry, and she was afraid she might if they were with her.

Chloe took her recent recording out of a drawer and put it on top of her bag so she could show her parents when they arrived. That was one really good thing that had happened. She would be able to say that she had achieved
something
even if it had nothing to do with her singing.

Just then, Pop and Lolly burst into the room.

“Guess what? Mrs. Pinto wants to take a photo of us all outside Paddock House. We're going to put our dresses on!” Pop whizzed to her closet and pulled out her stunning dress.

“You too, Chloe,” urged Lolly, slipping her dress over her head. “This is a house photo. You're just as important as anyone.”

“What should I wear?” Chloe asked.

“It doesn't matter,” Pop assured her.

“No, really. It doesn't,” said Tara disagreeably, leaning against the doorway.

“Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there, being horrible?” demanded Pop.

“Actually,” Tara replied, “I came to give Chloe a message.”

“Oh!” Chloe remembered. “I'm supposed to be on parking-lot duty.”

“It's not about that,” Tara said. “The message is from Danny. I saw him just now in the main hall. He said he'd seen your little brother wandering around outside on his own.” Chloe jumped to her feet.

“Ben? What's he doing here? Mom and Dad aren't coming until after the concert. I told them not to.”

Pop and Lolly exchanged glances. “Danny knows your little brother, though, doesn't he, Chloe? Surely he wouldn't make a mistake?” said Pop.